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“A beautiful woman should always have at the back of her mind that her ravishing appearance is only an ephemeral quality. When she wakes up in the morning, looks into the mirror, and notices that something is fading away, she knows that the time is ripe for marriage. She should be careful of who she takes into her life because the union is gonna be everlasting.”
― Michael Bassey Johnson

“Frozen in time, captured in memories, filled in passion, she melted in love before his eyes.”
― Luffina Lourduraj

“Pandora, who walked down the aisle of the estate chapel on Devon's arm, was radiantly beautiful in a dress of white silk, the billowing skirts so intricately gathered and draped that no lace or ornamental trim had been necessary. She wore a coronet of fresh daisies and a veil of sheer tulle and carried a small bouquet of roses and daisies.
If West had any remaining doubts about St. Vincent's true feelings for his bride, they were forever banished as he saw the man's expression. St. Vincent stared at Pandora as if she were a miracle, his cool composure disrupted by a faint flush of emotion. When Pandora reached him and the veil was pushed back, St. Vincent broke with etiquette by leaning down to press a tender kiss on her forehead.
"That part isn't 'til later," Pandora whispered to him, but it was loud enough that the people around them overheard, and a rustle of laughter swept through the crowd.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Devil's Daughter

“They say that you're not the same person once you get married on your wedding day. On your wedding night, however, you're definitely not feeling yourself anymore.”
― Stewart Stafford

“Danielle wore a simple bias-cut gown of the palest blush silk- one of her own designs- with white roses and jasmine braided into her thick auburn hair swept up from the nape of her neck, onto which she'd applied a new perfume she'd blended with a corresponding harmony just for the wedding. She carried the flowers of Bellerose: mimosa, rose, jasmine, violet, and orange blossom, twined into a voluptuous bouquet that spilled from her hand.
Jon stood before her, his velvety brown eyes sparkling with flecks of gold. She drank in the delicious, virile smell of him, loving how the scent of his skin melded with the perfume she had blended for him for this day- blood orange and orange blossom, patchouli and sandalwood, cinnamon and clove. She had devised a salty note, too, and added the sea's airy freshness.”
― Jan Moran, Scent of Triumph

“The overhead lights hit the Serch Bythol sculpture on the utmost tier, the sugar crystals shimmering and dancing like a cascade of diamonds. The planes of the cake beneath were clean and crisp, and the sugar-stained glass panels caught every light on the ceiling, throwing back shimmering rainbow rays. Sylvie was most proud of the silhouette that circled the middle stained-glass tiers--the skylines of London and Johnny's family estate in Lancashire. Only when viewed at close range did a second, hidden skyline emerge from within the reflective depths---the fantasy lands of I, Slayer, complete with a tiny, flying dragon. It was a work of art---and even now, she was taken aback by the level of harmony they had achieved, twinning together two very different styles.
In honor of the union of two very different people, whose lives would hopefully interlock just as successfully.”
― Lucy Parker, Battle Royal

“at the wedding the ceremony and the reception is for the bride, the honeymoon is for the groom, the food is for the guest, the money is for the vendors, and the empty bank account is for the parents”
― Manuel Corazzari

“Bridegroom means, groom your bride. This goes beyond the bloom of costume in the dressing room. You’ll so ‘perfumeâ€� her till she begins to assume what you desire to consume. This way, any looming gloom is doomed and the ‘volumeâ€� of your bliss will zoom to high heavens.”
― Vincent Okay Nwachukwu, Weighty 'n' Worthy African Proverbs - Volume 1

“She had no idea a man could even get that upset without having to go to four different flower shops in one day.”
― Lisa S. Gayle, Weddings Coordinated

“The bride's sleek dark hair was smoothed into an unusually restrained knot, but she'd stuck to her guns with the heavy black eyeliner. Her lacy black dress was a little funereal, but clearly a compromise between her own preference for Victoriana and the palace's idea of appropriate styling for a photo shoot that would make the history books. The groom was wearing a pink shirt, and his curls were fluffy.
It was like a grown-up Emily the Strange marrying Bertie Wooster.
The smiles were natural, the body language extremely affectionate, but their knuckles were white. Nerves or tension?
Sylvie studied the cover shot for a few more seconds, then scrolled down to the article. The journalist would have had a lot of the copy sitting ready to go. This had been on the rumor mill since their first joint public appearance. The union between the king's eldest granddaughter and the youngest son of a baronet, who, according to this tabloid, had inherited neither land nor brain cells from his parents.
The overgrown Goth princess and a stuttering social climber with all the poise and sophistication of a golden retriever.
Charming.”
― Lucy Parker, Battle Royal

“There's still a hefty amount of protocol, and even if the bride and groom look like they've respectively stepped out of The Nightmare Before Christmas and an Archie comic, the royal tradition is---"
"The brandy-soaked, raisin spotted, intestine-clogging brick known as fruitcake," Pet interrupted. "Will look and taste the same whether it was made yesterday or two decades ago. And at no time during its lengthy existence will anyone want to eat it. I've told you, the bride likes chocolate cake. Specifically and vitally, she apparently likes your Death by Chocolate fudge cake. Very little about this couple conforms to royal standards, which is half the reason the bookies are already taking revolting odds on how long the marriage will last, or if they'll actually make it to the altar. Rose is infamously a strong personality and a massive pain in her family's arse. I guarantee that however she has to bend to tradition, she'll wrangle final say over details like the inside of her cake.”
― Lucy Parker, Battle Royal

“Don't be the bride at your own funeral.”
― Anthony T. Hincks